


Would you accompany me to the edge of the sea and help me tie up the ends of a dream?

by moonythejedi394



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Anal Fingering, Anal Hygiene, Anal Sex, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bossy Bottom Steve Rogers, Bottom Steve Rogers, Bratting, Bratty Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Has a Big Dick, Cock Rings, Cock Slut, Come Marking, Come Shot, Cowboy Hats, Cuddling & Snuggling, Daddy Kink, Dogs, Dom Bucky Barnes, Eating, Fluff, Food, Gay Steve Rogers, Gentle Daddy Bucky Barnes, Getting Together, Horses, Idiots in Love, Inspired by Art, Light Dom/sub, Love Confessions, Lube, M/M, Missionary Position, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Nomad Steve Rogers, Oblivious Bucky Barnes, Oblivious Steve Rogers, Period Typical Attitudes, Praise Kink, Retirement, Showers, Smut, Sub Steve Rogers, Subspace, Thor (Marvel) is Not Stupid, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Top Bucky Barnes, Vibrators, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, ignores endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:42:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26381344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonythejedi394/pseuds/moonythejedi394
Summary: After defeating Thanos, Steve and Bucky retire completely. They buy a dairy farm in So-Cal and settle down to spend the rest of their days as Best Pals. They live there foryearsbefore Thor finally prompts the two of them to realize they are both in love with each other. It takes them less than 24 hours to get married after that. Well, they fuck first. They have their priorities in order.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 30
Kudos: 469





	Would you accompany me to the edge of the sea and help me tie up the ends of a dream?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MiddiMidori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiddiMidori/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Would you accompany me to the edge of the sea and help me tie up the ends of a dream?](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/681022) by MiddiMidori. 



> _welcome to my tribute to MiddiMidori's yEEHAW art of retired steve and bucky living it up on a farm. there will be a few yeehaw jokes in here. and like. a lot of smut. a lot._
> 
> _quick note before we go! steve reminisces about the 30s and 40s and he admits to having internalized homophobia. steve and bucky also use the term "fairy" which has been used as a slur in the past but from what i've seen, in their time it was mostly used by queer men themselves._
> 
> _this was beta'd by[dot_astralis](https://twitter.com/dot_astralis) the world's biggest kept boy stan and [chilibabie07](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chilibabie07) of my [chill babie](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870873) series, and also by grammarly who tried to get me to remove words like "absolutely" bc they were "unnecessary" but i continue to use the damn thing._

##  _Would you accompany me to the edge of the sea and help me tie up the ends of a dream?_

  
  


The world ended, and then after five years of struggling, the Avengers and company saw the world put back to rights. Thanos’s Snap was reversed and everyone who was dusted was brought back.

The first time Steve had laid eyes on Bucky after he’d been brought back, he had run at him like a kid. Launched himself into Bucky’s arms and clung to him, nearly even jumped and wrapped his legs around him. 

“Oh, hey, punk,” Bucky had laughed as he stumbled back from the force of Steve’s hug. “How long’s it been?”

It had been long enough Steve forgot himself. He couldn’t help it. Bucky had been the life and soul of him, and he’d missed him dreadfully.

Steve had been embarrassed, but Bucky laughed the hug off, and they didn’t talk about it. 

Life went by as if the past five years hadn't happened. Steve was called up by a dozen first world nations every other week to bring him back on as Captain America again, or perhaps some rebranded Captain Insert-Flag-Here. Bucky seemed content in New York, and Steve wasn’t about to leave him ever again. They shared a two-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, covered by and secured by Stark. It was just like old times.

It _was_ just like old times. Steve’s shameful little gay crush on Bucky reared its head at the worst times. He shoved it back down whenever it did. The only difference was that Bucky didn’t go out dancing every weekend anymore and there were no more dates brought back and escorted out again late at night.

Steve had always loved Bucky, even in their childhood. Bucky had been a god to him, more so than the frightening Heavenly Father described at Mass. Bucky could do no wrong. And while Bucky could do no wrong, Steve had been ashamed and afraid his whole life. Pretty much every confession he gave his priest had to do with Bucky. 

Now, Steve has had almost ten years to unlearn the homophobia he’d grown up with and internalized, but he’ll never dare let slip to Bucky what turns his gears and gets his Little Captain saluting the flag in the mornings. Bucky hadn't been vocally homophobic when they were growing up, and he isn’t now, but Steve’s kept his love secret for so long, at this point, he’s sure Bucky would be mortified to know. So Steve vows to never tell Bucky.

Despite that, he’ll never leave Bucky, either.

So:

“I miss my goats,” Bucky confesses to Steve. “In Wakanda. I had about ten goats. I miss ‘em.”

Steve looks up from his crossword, immediately thinking. “So… What? You wanna move out to the country? Start a new farm?”

“Would ya go with me if I did?” Bucky counters.

Steve puts his crossword down and picks up his tablet instead. “You want the midwest, the south, what?”

Bucky grins. “Knew I could count on you, punk.”

Steve finds a ranch for sale in southern California. Good earth, he’s told, comes with some dairy cows, a couple of horses, and, as Bucky wanted, a herd of lady goats.

They buy it and move west. That’s that.

Despite being city boys born and raised, the two of them are quick learners. Bucky already knows how to care for goats and to bring up a garden. Steve, apparently, is a natural on a horse.

“You look like a fuckin’ cowboy,” Bucky laughs the first time Steve walked out in “farm” clothes. “Where’d you get that hat?”

Steve takes his Cattleman style hat and tucks it against his chest, self-conscious and shy about it. “The internet,” he admits feebly. “I’ll get sunburnt so fast if I don’t wear a hat!”

“That’s why you got the Big Tex boots and belt buckle?” Bucky teases.

“Shuddup, I got you one, too!” Steve counters. “Hat, boots, the works!”

Bucky flops onto the couch and laughs his ass off. Steve smiles, because of course he does. He’s happy to look as stereotypically _yeehaw_ as he can if it makes Bucky laugh. Besides, the boots and the hat are perfectly practical. He needs the heel for riding horses and the hat will keep the sun off his scalp and stop him from cooking his brain. Maybe the belt buckle is a bit much, though. It has his shield on it – Well, Sam's shield now. Steve had thought it looked really neat. Now he's just going to wear it out of spite. 

Their farm’s a quiet life. They have farmhands, of course, who don’t mind correcting their new bosses here and there. Steve squirts himself milking the cows quite a lot at first. They don’t have any industrial machines to use on their herd, the previous owners had been all about Organic Living and Steve’s not fond of the way those milking machines look, either. Too… Chrome and intimidating. 

They sell the milk, Bucky’s fresh vegetables, so on and such and such.

Bucky grows peppers, berries, root vegetables, the like. One morning, Steve comes in for the night, tired and smelling like cow and milk, he imagines, and Bucky’s got several ceramic jars lined up in the kitchen. He’s elbow deep in one, stirring the mixture. Steve peeks at it and sees carrot slices amongst cloudy water with some kind of grain.

“What the hell is this?” Steve questions.

“Pickles,” Bucky says. “Old broad down in the village told me how to make ‘em, said she’d pay double for a jar of our stuff pickled.”

“What’s the stuff in there?” Steve asks, pointing at the odd grain.

“Bulghar,” Bucky says. “Got the vinegar kind over there, but Mrs. Boyajin gave me the recipe for this stuff, said it’s Armenian.”

Steve bends down and sniffs. “So, what’s it called?” he asked.

“Well –” Bucky says with a laugh, drawing his arm from the jar. “Mrs. Boyajin just said the family calls ‘em _this kinda pickles._ ”

He gestures as he says it, mimicking pushing up his sleeve. His arm is wet from the pickle brine, and as he passes his hand over his forearm, it streaks his hair up to his elbow. Steve briefly takes in how the brine makes the veins in Bucky’s forearm stand out, how slick it looks, and the drip of water from his rough fingertips, and hastily redirects his thoughts.

“‘Cause you gotta stir it by hand,” Bucky continues, flicking his fingers dry. “This’ll take a few weeks, but we’ll jar it up and have it for the market, call ‘em bulghar pickles since Mrs. Boyajin don’t have any other name for ‘em. Reminds me’a torshi, you remember?”

“Yeah,” Steve answers with a smile. “Yeah, your ma made ‘em?”

“Yep,” Bucky says. “Nan’s recipe. Anyhow, I got stuff to try makin’ cheese and jams, as well. What’d’ya think?”

“That sounds great,” Steve says happily.

In a couple of weeks, they debut Bucky’s preserves and pickles. Every jar is gone within a couple of hours. They’d slapped some stickers on the fronts of the jars and that had been enough for them, but on the drive back, Steve’s got ideas churning in his head.

He drafts up a cute little logo; their faces in a cartoon style and the name of their farm. It’s a couple of weeks before Bucky has more preserves or pickles to sell, along with their first batch of cheese, but this time, it’s complete with their new logo. 

“I think this farm life’s suiting us,” Bucky says that evening at home.

“I think so, too,” Steve agrees. 

“What do you think about bees?” Bucky then adds.

Their little farm grows. Occasionally, the press will show up at the farmer’s market and ask how Captain America and the Winter Soldier got to southern California. Steve likes to play dumb.

“Captain who?” he’ll say. “Nah, pal, do I look a hundred years old to you?”

Bucky teases him that he’s particularly good at playing dumb. “Nothing but fluff in that pretty blonde head’a yours,” he’d say. 

“Fuck you,” Steve’d grumble back. But he’d blush; the compliment always went straight to his head even though Bucky didn’t mean it the way he wished.

Bucky picks up something new every other summer, it seems, but Steve’s content with his dairy cows. He likes taking them out to pasture most especially; his horse, a lovely gelding called Henry the Eighth, is a good companion. Steve likes the quiet of taking the herd out to the fields and back; just him, Eight, the dogs barking, and the cows lowing. 

He likes letting Eight roam the pasture with the cows, settling under a broad oak, standing alone in the field, and tucking his wide-brimmed hat over his eyes to catch an afternoon nap. Their herding dogs, Sophie and Maya, often flop down next to him and put their heads on his knee. Bucky finds him like that, sometimes.

"Now you really look like a cowboy," he'll say, pushing his own hat back on his brow. "Feel like a spot'a lunch, pardner?"

Steve will say yes and Bucky will sit down with him and unpack a picnic basket, and they'll shoo the dogs away from their food. There's always pickles, usually also sandwiches, and sometimes Bucky will bring smoothies made from their berries and milk and yogurt. They'll eat under the oak tree, and Eight will wander over to rest into the shade and the dogs will lie down at their feet and look at them with big eyes. Steve usually tosses them something to eat and Bucky always scolds him for it.

"We ain't at the table," Steve defends himself, "they ain't gonna learn nothin' from it."

"You say that, and yet they're gonna be lickin' your elbows at supper," Bucky counters.

They always do. Steve sometimes sneaks them a bite, but Bucky usually catches him thinking about it and just glares until Steve gives up the notion.

It’s a nice life. It keeps Steve occupied, too, out of the house, away from Bucky sweating over boiling jars or knelt in the garden, pulling up weeds with his shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

It keeps his head quiet. That’s a lot more than Steve had thought he’d get until the farm.

Suddenly they’ve been living there for five years. Bucky’s newest experiment is mead made from their honey, and with the proper licenses acquired, they’re able to test the first batch at their fifth anniversary at the farm. They invite all of the old team out for a meal made entirely with ingredients from the farm or the area, down to the wheat they’d bought down the road that Bucky made the pasta from.

“This is some good shit,” Tony says of the booze. “I’ll take a hundred bottles.”

They laugh about that. Most of them are staying at an inn up at the nearby town, and the lot of them are hammered, so Steve drives them back. Bucky tried to get the mead strong enough for the two of them to get buzzed on it, but unfortunately, that had only produced something that tasted like rubbing alcohol. So he and Bucky, despite drinking quite a bit of their mead, are as sober as priests.

When Steve gets back after dropping their guests off at their lodgings, Thor is still there. He doesn’t need a ride, nor is he even remotely tipsy from Bucky’s homemade mead.

“Welcome back, my friend,” Thor says as Steve comes back in through the kitchen. “Now that it is just us, I can share my gift!”

“Gift?” Steve replies with a smile. “You didn’t need to bring us anything, pal.”

“Too late,” Thor jokes, producing a glass bottle of dark, amber liquid from his coat. “A treat for you! We may compare mead from my city to mead from yours!”

“Oh, I heard’a this stuff,” Bucky says as he takes the bottle from Thor. “You shared this with Steve once, right?”

“Yes, but this is a different blend!” Thor tells them. “Steven, come, come, glasses!”

Steve gets down three old fashioned glasses from the cupboard and joins Thor and Bucky by the hearth once again. Thor is in Steve’s armchair, so Steve brings over a chair from the kitchen table. He puts the glasses down on a low table in between the two chairs and Thor opens the bottle to pour a small amount into each glass.

“This is made with honey from a special flower,” Thor comments. “I think there is something like it on your planet; it is called hemp?”

“Whew, now that’s what I call booze!” Bucky says happily as he takes his glass. “Alright, to Thor!”

“To Thor!” Steve agrees.

The mead is sweeter than the last bottle Thor had shared with him, but not quite as sweet as Bucky’s mead. There is a slight aftertaste that Steve guesses is the Asgardian hemp in the honey.

And then it goes straight to his head. Steve exhales sharply, blinking hard, as he feels his brain go mushy and airy.

“Whoa,” he whispers.

“This is good stuff,” Bucky says, smacking his lips. “You gotta bring us more’a this.”

“Alas, it is a drink for very special occasions,” Thor answers. “Too much of a good thing and whatnot! But I shall bring it for your name-days and your anniversaries!”

“Name-days?” Steve repeats. “What, our birthdays?”

“Yes!” Thor says. “And the anniversary of your new life here is today, but when is your anniversary?”

“Of what?” Steve asks, taking another long sip of his mead.

“Your coupling?” Thor says.

Steve almost spits out his mead. Bucky coughs and thumps a fist against his chest, having choked. Thor frowns.

Steve wipes his mouth and says, weakly: “Our what now?”

“Your coupling?” Thor repeats. “What is it called on earth, marriage?”

“We’re not married, pal,” Bucky answers hoarsely.

“No,” Steve confirms. “Not – No, not even a little bit –”

“I do not know what the line between a marriage and a devoted couple is in your culture,” Thor remarks. “In our society, a couple who wish to pronounce their lifelong commitment will host a feast and engage in coitus for the guests. I have heard your marriage involves a piece of paper?”

Steve is caught on _coitus for the guests_ and the fact that Thor thinks they’re gay.

“We’re not a couple,” Bucky insists. “He’s not gay.”

“No,” Steve says, and then – 

Steve feels a bit like he’s been kicked in the stomach.

“Wait –” he starts weakly. “Hang on –”

“You two are not life partners?” Thor questions. “I had thought, as you have been living with each other so long – I assumed, my apologies.”

“Did you say I’m not gay?” Steve asks the air.

Bucky looks at Steve. Steve looks at Bucky, but can’t quite meet his eyes. He’s looking more at the crease between Bucky’s eyebrows, the shadow deepened by his slight unibrow.

“You said –” Steve begins again. “ _‘He’s not gay.’_ Like – Like _you_ are?”

“Well,” Bucky mutters. “Um.”

He suddenly drains his glass. Steve blinks again.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, then burps. “Shit, that’s not as pleasant coming back out. Yeah. I’m kinda gay, Steve.”

“You –” Steve whispers. “But –”

“Lemme have some more’a that,” Bucky says, holding his glass out to Thor.

“I did not intend to start this conversation between the two of you,” Thor says apologetically, but he pours Bucky another glass.

“You were constantly pullin’ girls,” Steve insists. “You had a new broad pretty much every week! I _heard_ you fucking them!”

“You were listening?” Bucky says, very startled all of a sudden.

_Oh, shit,_ Steve mouths. “No, no,” he swears, “not intentionally! You were loud!”

He _never_ listened _intentionally._ Of course. Never. Not once. Not on purpose. He heard a few things _despite_ not intentionally listening, though, and he remembered those few things to that day. Like, this one dame with an impressive set of lungs begging for Daddy to fuck her harder. For a wild example. Just one example, it wasn’t like Steve had burned that particular memory into his mind with any specific intention. Of course not. 

“Oh,” Bucky mutters, raising his glass again. “Well. That’s embarrassing…”

Steve does not know what his brain is doing now. Perhaps Thor’s mead is making it easier for him, perhaps it’s doing the exact opposite. He is, in a nutshell, confused.

“You’re…” he says.

“Drink up, Steve,” Bucky says, taking the bottle from Thor to refill Steve’s glass. “Maybe you can just… Forget it?”

“I’m gay!” Steve blurts.

Bucky stops, bottle hovering over Steve’s glass. “What,” he says.

Steve claps a hand over his mouth. He whimpers pathetically behind it.

“Oh, my,” Thor whispers.

“You’re –” Bucky says. “Steve…”

Steve took the bottle from Bucky and just chugged from it.

“Let’s not drink too much of that,” Thor says, taking the bottle from Steve.

“Oh, my god, you’re gay?” Bucky half-shouts.

“You’re gay!” Steve counters, both mortified and in shock. “Were you faking it with all those dames!”

“Nah, I did fuck ‘em,” Bucky says. “But… actually… Coupl’a them, uh… They were fairies…”

Steve’s eyes widened. Bucky licked his lips, his eyes fixed on Steve’s.

“Buck,” Steve whispers.

“Um, I think the word now is bi?” Bucky says softly. “Or pan? I ain’t real sure. Haven’t thought too hard ‘bout it.”

“Oh,” Steve says.

“You – You had Peggy, though,” Bucky insists. “You two roomed together all the time in London!”

“Oh,” Steve repeats. “Um, actually, no. We, uh, kinda had an arrangement. She was a lesbian.”

Bucky’s eyes got wide, too. “You came home with hickeys,” he accuses.

“Peggy didn’t give ‘em to me,” Steve answers. “She was fuckin’ the USO girls.”

“Who gave ‘em to you?” Bucky demanded, scrambling to sit up like he’s about to lunge for Steve. “Did I know ‘em? Was it one of the Howlies?”

“Paid guys,” Steve blurts. “I, um. Peggy knew the right bars. I… Paid ‘em…”

“Is this scenario not one common among your people?” Thor questions. “Men with men? Women with women? I thought it was?”

“It’s common now, wasn’t then,” Bucky says roughly. “Oh, my god, Steve… I had no idea…”

“Why would it be uncommon _‘then’_?” Thor questions. “When you were children? What changed?”

“Um,” Steve says. “Humans, uh, kinda had a thing about queers back in our day. It’s – It was –”  
  


“Issues,” Bucky offered, “with, uh, the Church an’ stuff…”

“So odd,” Thor says.

“You had a steady girl for a while in ‘39,” Bucky says to Steve, pointing at him and everything. “You never let me meet her, I don’t remember why. Was she –”

“Not a she?” Steve mutters, covering his mouth with his hands. “Yeah. No.”

“Holy shit,” Bucky says. “Then – Was he – Was he like – Like one’a the fairies I went out with?”

Steve bites his lip and slowly shakes his head. “I…” he begins faintly, “was the… the, uh. Fairy…”

Bucky inhales sharply. He leans back in his chair. Thor looks confused.

“What do you mean by fairy?” Thor asks. “I have heard of fae? Steven, are you a member of the Fair Folk?”

“No, it means a fella that’s feminine,” Bucky says. “A queer man, I mean. The fairies I went out with dressed up like dames…”

Steve can see Bucky realizing and is steadily becoming mortified. He gulps the last of his mead, hoping that maybe he’s hallucinating all of this.

“Stevie, did you –” Bucky starts. “Did you dress – Like – Like –?”

“You went out with fellas like that, you can’t judge me,” Steve snaps at him.

“I ain’t judgin’, pal,” Bucky answers slowly.

Thor blows out his breath and refills his own glass. “Maybe one more won’t hurt,” he says before handing the bottle to Steve.

Steve happily refills his glass. He glances up and notices Bucky licking his lips.

“What?” he says.

“I’m just imaginin’ you in a pair’a nylons,” Bucky says slowly.

Steve chokes on absolutely nothing. “ _What?_ ”

“Did you wear ‘em?” Bucky asks, touching a finger to his temple.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve mutters, looking away and taking a long gulp from his glass. “Um. Maybe.”

“Damn,” Bucky mutters.

He sounds almost _appreciative._

Steve looks up again, his mouth falling open. “You –” he sputters.

“I believe I know when I am no longer needed,” Thor announces suddenly, getting up from his chair. “Spare bedroom?”

“Second floor, down to the right,” Bucky tells Thor without looking. “Thanks for the booze and the nudge, pal.”

Thor bows to both of them. Steve is unsure of what’s about to happen. He is just _staring_ wide-eyed at Bucky’s unibrow. Thor leaves the living room, his footsteps thudding on the stairs to the second floor.

“I think…” Bucky begins. “If we really wanna pretend this never happened, he left the bottle…”

Steve glances at the bottle and back at Bucky. He blinks a few times.

“I had no idea,” Bucky adds. “That you… Ever. Or, if I did, it got lost somewhere in the blender or something.”

Steve shrugs, covering his mouth again. “Never knew about you…” he mumbles. “Don’t think you knew back then. ‘Bout me. I thought you were straight.”

“Damn,” Bucky mutters. “Stevie…”

Bucky shifts forward in his chair, his eyebrows furrowed. “Stevie,” he repeats. “Maybe – Maybe it’s this shit we’re on, maybe I’m readin’ this all wrong…”

Steve looks up, eyes widening once again. “What?”

“You know I love you?” Bucky then says. “You know that? There’s nothin’ I wouldn’t do for you, pal.”

Steve swallows, blinks. “I would do anythin’ for you, Buck,” he agrees carefully.

Bucky actually shifts off his armchair, then. He kneels down in front of Steve and takes his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face. Steve gulps, licking his lips. Bucky licks his lips, too, looking at Steve’s mouth.

“You are my best friend,” Bucky says, “and I’d burn down the world for you. I’d also love to fuck you.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Steve squeaks.

“Is that mutual at all?” Bucky adds casually.

The English language is not Steve’s friend at that moment. He just _breathes_ for a second, then thinks _Fuck it._ He falls out of his chair, pulls his hands from Bucky’s grip, and instead throws his arms around Bucky’s neck. He does not allow any of his brain cells to communicate, and he plants his mouth on Bucky’s.

Bucky makes a surprised noise, but his arms go around Steve’s waist. Steve accidentally knocks Bucky backwards, too; Bucky ends up on his ass and Steve ends up kneeling between his thighs. Bucky’s mouth is dry and his stubble irritates Steve’s upper lip and Bucky’s hands are digging into Steve’s back almost painfully, but it’s the best fucking kiss Steve’s ever gotten.

They break apart a second or maybe an hour later. Bucky cups Steve’s cheek, looking into his eyes with something that Steve’s intoxicated and now horny brain cannot comprehend.

“Goddamn, Stevie,” Bucky murmurs.

“Can I call you Daddy, too?” Steve blurts.

Bucky’s eyes widen, then he laughs. “You heard that, huh?” he guesses. “Fuck yeah, sweetheart, I’d love t’a be your daddy.”

Steve whimpers. He lurches forward and kisses Bucky again.

“Shit,” Bucky says into Steve’s mouth. “Shit, I gotta –”

Bucky’s right hand grabs Steve’s ass, squeezing. Steve whines, arching his back, and then Bucky adds his left hand and scoops Steve up entirely. Bucky then stands up, lifting Steve and going to his feet in one smooth movement. Steve is dizzy with the mead and all the blood rushing to his cock and _holy fuck,_ that was hot. 

“Jesus, please fuck me,” he begs. “Fuck me, Buck, I’ll be so good for you, swear, you’ve never had ass like mine, please –”  
  


“Fucking –” Bucky whispers back. “Stevie, babydoll, we’re so fuckin’ drunk –”

“Don’t care,” Steve says, “this whole fuckin’ time, could’a been goin’ at it an’ I was too fool to see? Christ, I don’t care if I fall asleep, want you to fuck me.”

Bucky slams Steve’s back against the wall. Steve moans, a bit breathless, and promptly wraps his legs around Bucky’s hips, angling their crotches to brush against one another to rut against Bucky shamelessly.

“Sweetheart, we’re drunk,” Bucky gasps. “I can’t – Can’t do something an’ have you wake up tomorrow an’ regret it.”

“Fuck, I’d never regret bein’ with you,” Steve promises. “Swear, Buck, swear on my life, could never regret us!”

Bucky clucks his tongue, pressing their foreheads together. “We’re drunk,” he just repeats.

Steve grabs Bucky’s face and pulls him into another kiss. He pours his heart and soul into that kiss, determined to prove himself. Bucky wraps his hands around Steve’s waist, but pulls back a second later.

“We can’t,” he says.

“Buck!” Steve whines.

“Come back in the morning,” Bucky cuts him off.

“Buck –” Steve whines again.

“Come back in the morning,” Bucky repeats. “If you’re serious –”

“I’ve never been more serious about something in my entire fucking life,” Steve swears.

Bucky laughs softly. “Stevie,” he says gently. “Please.”

“I’ve loved you since we were kids,” Steve insists. “ _Wanted_ you since we were kids. Every time I went to confessions, I was telling Father Elliot that I’d tugged myself off thinkin’ of you.”

“Jesus,” Bucky whispers.

“An’ maybe I did listen in,” Steve adds hastily. “On purpose. To you an’ your girls.”

Bucky licks his lips. “Yeah?” he says quietly. 

“Daddy,” Steve whispers. “I – I touched myself listenin’ to you an’ them.”

“Fuck,” Bucky whispers back. “Did ya?”

Steve nods quickly, biting his lip. “I am serious,” he says. “Wanted you for years.”

“Jesus, you’re testin’ me,” Bucky murmurs.

Steve cups Bucky’s jaw and thumbs at his lower lip. “C’mon, Daddy,” he says in a breath between them. “Please. ‘M gaggin’ for it.”

“Damn, you are, huh?” Bucky replies. “Stevie, we are _so_ drunk. I mean it.”

“Please?” Steve whines.

“Fuck,” Bucky mutters, tucking close to Steve; almost, but not quite kissing him. “Babydoll, you got no idea how much I wanna stick it in ya righ’ now –”

“Then fuckin’ do it!” Steve whines.

Bucky growls. He crashes his mouth against Steve’s once more, pressing their bodies flush together. Steve angles his hips up and whines, rolling his lower body to get his dick rubbing against Bucky’s. He hitched a leg up, curling it around Bucky’s lower back, and dug his heel into the meat of Bucky’s ass. Bucky swore into Steve’s mouth.

“Goddammit, Steve,” he hisses. “You clean?”

Steve’s head spins. “Gimme twenty minutes?” he says breathlessly.

Bucky nods. Steve pulls Bucky into one more kiss, then drops his legs. Bucky puts him down. He is panting, his eyebrows furrowed in the middle where they met. He licks his lips, his gaze slipping down Steve’s front.

“My room or yours?” he asks quietly.

“Yours, Daddy,” Steve blurts.

Bucky nods. “Twenty minutes,” he agrees. “An’ if you change your mind –”

“I won’t,” Steve promises.

“If you do,” Bucky repeats firmly, “I ain’t gonna be mad about it, honey. I don’t give a damn if we never speak about this again. Alright? You matter too much to me.”

Steve licks his lips, too. He moves closer again and slides his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, crossing his elbows behind his neck. Bucky cups his waist, his eyes slipping shut as Steve leans in. Steve lets their noses brush once, then presses his lips against Bucky’s; just softly. Bucky opens his mouth and Steve parts his lips, too, his upper lip pressing against Bucky’s light mustache, which tickles. Bucky’s hands slide around his back, the right rucking up his shirt and sliding beneath it to press against his skin. Steve presses one hand against Bucky’s cheek, holding him close, and Bucky’s left hand lifts as well to press against Steve’s jaw, fingers threading through his beard. 

They part.

“I’ve loved you as long as I can remember,” Steve murmurs. “I promise, Buck.”

Bucky inhales and then blows out his breath. It smells like the mead; a little bit foul, but also like honey.

“Brush your teeth while I’m washin’ my ass for you,” Steve says softly.

“Jesus,” Bucky snorts. “Alright, fine, boss.”

Steve snorts, too, and rolls his eyes, giving Bucky a gentle shove to his shoulders. “I’ll be there soon,” he promises. “Don’t start without me.”

Bucky glances down Steve’s body again, then, his gaze lingering on Steve’s chest, licks his lips. “No promises,” he murmurs.

Steve blushes and rolls his eyes again. “Get in there,” he fusses, retreating for his room. “Twenty minutes.”

Bucky salutes, a smirk curling his lips. Steve blushes again and turns away, but glances back a second later; Bucky hasn't moved yet, he’s just standing there and looking at Steve’s ass.

“Goddamn,” Bucky offers, licking his lips again.

“Jesus,” Steve whispers absently, hurrying to get to his room before he loses the patience to get ready.

Steve shuts his door with his foot, perhaps a little harder than necessary as it slams. Still, he hastens to get undressed; he just yanks his button-up shirt off and tosses it to the laundry bin, then strips off his belt and falls onto his bed to tug his boots off. He undoes his jeans and shoves them and his boxers down as he stands up again, then, moving his ass fast still, enters the bathroom.

Steve, being a horny bastard despite being single, regularly uses sex toys and, ergo, keeps up a rigorous anal hygiene routine. It doesn’t hurt that they eat mostly food from theirs and their neighbors’ farms, and that food is usually high in fiber and all farm-to-table, so his diet is conveniently optimized for regular anal penetration. Steve has alcohol-free wipes on the shelf over the toilet, a gentle formula soap for washing his dick and outside his asshole, a water-proof lube in the shower, and an attachment for the shower hose for douching, all of which are used almost daily. 

Steve turns on the shower and lets it warm up, taking an interlude to clean up with the wipes first. He washes his hands again after, then hops into the shower and angles the showerhead away from his face to keep his hair dry as possible. He pumps soap into his palm, then reaches back and goes between his asscheeks with it, gently lathering himself. He rinses his hands again, then gets a bit more soap and washes his balls and shaft. The soap tingles pleasantly and with his dick already half-hard, touching it gets him close to a full erection. Steve is quick, however, determination driving him to see past a quick and easy orgasm and look forward to getting absolutely destroyed by the love of his life.

“Oh, Jesus,” Steve mutters to himself as he realizes, soapy hand still on his dick.

It sinks in at this time. Bucky is going to fuck him. Steve’s dick throbs in his hand as a whine forms in the back of his throat.

“Oh, god,” Steve whispers again, hastily letting go of himself to rinse the soap. “Fuck, fuck me…”

Steve moves through the rest of his clean-up quickly; rinses the soap from between his legs, switches the flow from the showerhead to the douche hose, adjusts the temperature to lukewarm. Steve gets wet with the shower lube and reaches behind him to give his hole a quick stretch, then puts more on the nozzle with a clean hand and leans forward, hand on the wall, to insert it inside him.

Steve bites his lip as the water fills him. It’s nothing like a dildo or a dick, rather, it’s vaguely unpleasant, but the implication has his dick twitching. Steve pulls the hose out after a minute and steps out of the shower, waddling with his butt full of water. He dries off with a towel quickly, then spends a minute rocking back and forth on his toes to get things flowing before taking a seat on the toilet. 

Steve repeats the process four times to be _absolutely_ certain that he’s ready. Better to be over-prepared, and the like. He finishes with the soap again, exits the shower for the last time, and dries off.

Steve is then naked, clean, and dry. His hair is a little damp. Steve hadn't checked the time before he got into the shower and he actually has no idea how long it has been since. Bucky is waiting for him. Bucky is going to _fuck him._ After _years_ of wanting him, Bucky is actually going to fuck him. 

Steve flits about his room, trying to decide what he’s going to put on to go to Bucky’s room. Should he put anything on at all? Would it be too forward to waltz into Bucky’s room in his birthday suit? Would it be redundant to put something on, if he was just going to take it off again? Should he put on his bathrobe? Steve wrinkles his nose at it; it’s the least sexy thing he owned, a long terrycloth thing in navy blue. Why doesn’t he have a silk dressing gown to put on? Dammit, he doesn’t even own _nylons_ anymore.

Steve files a mental note to look into getting lingerie again. He might be a dairy farmer now, but he’s still a fairy at heart. Yeehaw on the streets, _yeehaw_ in the sheets, as the kids would say.

For now, Steve gives up on making a good first impression. Hopefully, Bucky will just get him naked again quickly and he won’t care what Steve walked in wearing. He puts on a clean shirt, buttons it halfway to be polite, then steps into a clean pair of boxers. He stops to look into the mirror over his dresser, fixes his hair, blows out his breath, then leaves his room barefoot.

Steve finds his heart pounding as he walks down the hallway to Bucky’s door. He’s so fucking nervous on top of being on edge. He stops at the door, takes a breath, and knocks.

A second passes. A nasty thought at the back of his head suggests Bucky has changed his mind. Then the door opens.

Bucky is still dressed, but he’d taken off his shirt. He’s just wearing his jeans, the Winter Soldier belt Steve had bought him, and a sleeveless tank top stretched so thin over his chest, Steve can see his nipples. 

Steve sucks in a breath, just reminded of how gorgeous Bucky is. His arms are thick, softened at the shoulders and upper arm, but defined at the wrist and forearms. The tank top dips low under his collarbones, showing thick and curly chest hair defining the valley of his chest. His jeans ride low on his hips despite the belt, his slight retirement gut pushing his undershirt out just noticeably.

Yeah, Steve is really gay.

“It’s been twenty-six minutes, Steve, I’m _dying,_ ” Bucky declares, already grabbing Steve.

Steve lets himself be crushed against Bucky’s chest and kisses him. His knees go weak and he sags against Bucky’s chest, bringing him almost to Bucky’s height. Bucky grabs his waist and his ass and drags him inside the room.

Steve fists his hands in Bucky’s undershirt as he is steered inside. One of them kicks the door shut, Steve’s brain is not paying attention. Steve falls onto the bed, Bucky above him, and grabs his undershirt to get it up and off. Bucky’s hands are doing the same thing to Steve, moving down the buttons of his shirt much faster than Steve had done them up. 

“Up,” Bucky demands, shoving the shirt off his shoulders.

Steve lifts his back, tensing his core. Bucky pulls the shirt off his arms, tugs it from under him, and throws it somewhere highly unimportant. Steve yanks Bucky’s undershirt up and Bucky pauses before kissing him again to strip it off. Steve grabs Bucky’s chest immediately, groaning at the weight of his pecs in his palms. Bucky laughs at him softly, fondly.

“Could say the same ‘bout you, sweetheart,” he says, grabbing Steve’s chest and squeezing him. “Jesus, these _tits._ ”

Steve sucks in an excited breath, cock twitching in his pants. “Do you like them?” he whispers.

“Do I _like_ them?” Bucky repeats sharply. “Baby, I wanna _fuck_ them.”

Steve whimpers. He grabs Bucky’s hair and tugs him into another kiss. Bucky hums into his mouth and his hands squeeze Steve’s chest again.

“Another time,” Bucky murmurs. “I’ll lube these pretty titties up an’ fuck ‘em ‘til I come all over your beard.”

“Fuck –” Steve gasps.

“Yeah, that sounds fun,” Bucky chuckles. “Righ’ now, I want you to crawl up to the nightstand and get the lube outta the top drawer. And a condom if you want one,” he adds, an afterthought.

“Uh-uh,” Steve says at once, “want you to finish in me, stuff me full.”

Bucky groans, squeezing Steve’s _tits_ again. “Get up there, babydoll.”

Steve nods, scrambling to get up. Bucky lets him turn over and crawl up the bed, then as Steve gets his knees onto the mattress, Bucky’s hand lands on his ass and gives him a solid smack. Steve yelps, falling onto his hip and looking back at Bucky with wide, startled eyes. Bucky grins.

“Couldn’t help myself, sweet pea,” he says. 

“Jesus,” Steve whispers, turning back onto his knees to keep crawling.

He gets to the nightstand and yanks open the top drawer. There are two bottles of lube; one open and mostly empty, the other still sealed. Steve grabs them both, but his gaze lingers on the mini wand vibrator and the cock ring.

“You want somethin’ else from there?” Bucky asks in a teasing tone.

Steve sucks on his teeth and then grabs both. He shifts onto his hip and then turns over and crawls back to Bucky at the end of the bed, cradling the lube and sex toys to his chest with a hand.

“Who’s that thing goin’ on, honey?” Bucky chuckles, plucking the cock ring from Steve’s grip.

“Me,” Steve blurts.

Bucky raises his eyebrows, grinning. “Yeah? An’ is this gonna be used on you, too?” he adds, taking the wand.

Steve nods quickly, sitting down on his hip and then shifting to his butt. He scoots closer, dropping the lube onto the bed, and wraps his arms around Bucky’s neck. He presses his other hand against Bucky’s chest, cupping his pec for a moment, then runs his palm down his stomach to the front of his jeans.

Bucky touches his jaw again, fingers pushing through his beard. They just kiss for a minute, Steve’s hazy mind content with Bucky’s lips and tongue and hands at his waist, the bulge of Bucky’s dick under his right hand and the scratch of his light beard under his left.

“You wanna be on your back or your front?” Bucky says against Steve’s mouth.

“Huh?” Steve mumbles back.

Bucky chuckles. He reaches up and pinches Steve’s cheek gently.

“You want me to fuck you on your back or your front?” Bucky asks.

“Hhhh,” Steve answers weakly.

Bucky laughs at him. He combs his hand through Steve’s hair, then grips it tight and yanks his head back. Steve gasps, his face flushing hot and his mouth falling open.

“You wanna get dick lyin’ on your back or your front?” Bucky asks again. “You take too long t’a tell me, I’ll pick for you.”

“Jesus,” Steve whispers. “Daddy… Daddy, pick for me.”

Bucky grins. “You’re so cute,” he murmurs. “Get on your back, honey. Legs up.”

Steve nods, pulling back. Bucky’s hands trail from his waist, then he tucks his thumbs into his belt loops as Steve lay back and set his feet on the bed. 

“Shorts off, honey,” Bucky says softly.

Steve bites his lip and lifts his hips, doing a bridge to grab the waistband of his boxers. He pushes; his boxers pops over his ass, but catches in the front on his erection. Steve lowers his core and lifts the waistband over his dick, picking his feet up to tug them off. Steve immediately pulls his legs up to his stomach, heart pounding in his chest.

Bucky smirks and puts his hands on Steve’s shins. “Honey,” he purrs, “you goin’ shy on me?”

“No,” Steve insists, hugging his knees to his stomach.

“D’aw,” Bucky chuckles. “Tell you what, if you ain’t shy, why don’t you grab your knees and pull ‘em back an’ out for me? C’mon, show me the goods.”

Steve feels a shiver go down his spine and right up his dick. He bites his lip again, then tucks his hands under his knees. He moves them apart and back. His dick immediately stands up stiffly between his legs.

“Damn,” Bucky murmurs. “Good boy, Stevie. What a big boy you are, doll, the serum do this to ya or did you have this hangin’ in your shorts before?”

Steve blushes hard; his dick isn’t _that_ big, it’s respectably above average, but he’d dare anyone to hear Bucky purr _Good boy_ at them followed by a compliment on their dick and _not_ blush down to their chest.

“Was like this before the serum,” Steve admits.

Bucky whistles. “Shit,” he says, running his hands down Steve’s ankles and just looking at his dick with this appreciative glint in his eye. “We’re such fucking idiots, Stevie, wish I could’a had a chance t’a see skinny you with this between your legs.”

“I looked dumb,” Steve insists.

“Don’t make me spank you,” Bucky counters. “Who said you looked dumb, baby?”

“Nobody really,” Steve mutters. “Just – Looked outta proportion, y’know?”

“Fuck that, this cock is gorgeous,” Bucky says. “Can I touch it, honey?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Steve answers immediately, “um, I might –”

Bucky’s hand wraps around the base of his cock, his fingertips deliciously rough, then slides up, dry-palmed, to the tip, and his calloused thumb presses into Steve’s slit.

Steve can’t finish his sentence. He gasps, his eyes rolling back, coming instantly. Bucky whistles and Steve jolts as his own cum splatters his stomach and chest.

“Damn, Stevie,” Bucky chuckles.

“Sorry,” Steve breathes out. “Serum. Go off real easy. Don’t stop, please, I’ll stay hard.”

“Don’t apologize, sweetie,” Bucky answers. “That why you want the cock ring? Think you gotta last longer?”

“No, feels good,” Steve insists. “Please, Buck, Daddy, touch me –”

Bucky grabs the lube and pops the cap, then lets go of Steve’s dick for a second to squirt lube into his palm. Steve pulls his legs further apart, breathing hard as his cock throbs, then he gasps again as Bucky wraps a slick hand around him and teasingly runs it up his shaft. 

Steve pushes his head back, grabbing onto the bed with both hands and biting his lip to keep back an embarrassing moan. Bucky glances at his face and grins as he gives his wrist a flick and puts his thumb into Steve’s slit. Steve gasps again, legs jerking. Bucky chuckles.

“This is fun,” he says. “How many times you go at once?”

Steve blows out his breath hard. “Um,” he starts. “Depends on – on how much time I have? Usually, I go for three.”

“I can respect that,” Bucky replies casually, like they’re discussing maybe how many miles Steve ran for a warm-up. “But how many’s your record?”  
  


Steve exhales hard. “Uh,” he starts again, breathing hard. “Nine?”

Bucky whistles. “That’s a lot, baby,” he says. “I’ll be nice and say we can test that max another time. I’ll get you to four tonight.”

“Oh, god,” Steve breathes out. “Yeah, yeah, sounds good.”

“You’re such a dork,” Bucky answers with a laugh. “ _Sounds good,_ Jesus –”

“You try thinkin’ shit out when the love of your life has his hand on your dick!” Steve challenges. 

“I’ll do you one better,” Bucky adds with a wink, sliding his hand down Steve’s cock. “I’ll think shit out with my dick in your ass.”

“Get your dick in me, first,” Steve counters.

“Now you’re thinkin’,” Bucky chuckles. “Maybe you just need the right motivation –”

He grabs the lube bottle again. Steve pulls his legs back one more time, holding behind his knees, and picks up his head to watch Bucky spread the lube over his fingers. The clear liquid spills from the bottle and slides immediately down the pads of Bucky’s fingers to his palm, then Bucky closes his hand and rubs his fingers into the pooled lube, smearing it across his squared-off fingernails. It drips over the edge of his hand and Bucky lifts his arm at the elbow to let it run down the side of his palm to his wrist. 

Steve whimpers, thinking about all the times he’s walked in on Bucky stirring the jars of bulghur pickles with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

Bucky grins at him. “You’re thinkin’ somethin’, sweetheart,” he says. “Pretty sure it ain’t kosher.”

“Nope,” Steve agrees heavily.

Bucky sets his left hand on the back of Steve’s thigh, pushing it farther back. “What is it, then?” he asks, still just spreading the lube across his palm.

“The pickles,” Steve blurts.

“The what?” Bucky answers, letting out a laugh. “Baby, you hungry or somethin’?”

“The ones you stir by hand!” Steve defends himself quickly. “The – the –”

He jerks his arms up and gestures pushing his sleeve up. “This kinda pickle!” he insists. “An’ how much seein’ you do that makes me wan’ your arm up my ass!”

Bucky grabs the bed with his left hand and collapses over Steve, laughing. Steve catches him and hugs him tight, letting out his own laugh. Lube gets smeared between them, but Bucky presses his face into Steve’s neck as he continues to laugh. Steve catches Bucky’s hair and cradles his head close, his own chest shaking as he chuckles.

Bucky kisses under Steve’s jaw. “I love you so fuckin’ much, punk,” he says softly. “Like, _Jesus._ Pickles –!”

“It’s not my fault you have incredibly sexy arms!” Steve whines.

“Pickles,” Bucky continues to giggle.

Steve snorts. He wraps his legs around Bucky’s lower torso and gives Bucky’s hair a light tug.

“C’mon, I been waitin’ a century for you to fuck me,” he teases.

“Hang on, baby, I’m still thinkin’ about gettin’ you hot ‘cause I was makin’ pickles,” Bucky wheezes.

“Buck!” Steve whines.

Bucky pushes up and presses his lips to Steve’s. Steve laces his fingers through Bucky’s hair, lifting his chin to kiss back. Bucky’s left hand presses to his waist, then his hip, then grabs his thigh and shoves it back. Steve lifts his foot, stretching his thigh to bring his knee close to his shoulder, then Bucky pulls from his mouth with a quick peck.

“I love you so fuckin’ much,” Bucky murmurs.

Steve grins and cups Bucky’s cheeks. “Love you so fuckin’ much,” he answers softly. “Would love you more if you fucked me before another century goes by.”

Bucky snorts. He gives Steve another quick kiss, then wipes lube off Steve’s chest. 

“Anybody ever tell you you’re a bossy bottom?” he asks teasingly.

“No, they usually gave me what I wanted faster and then I was too busy drooling t’a be bossy,” Steve retorts.

Bucky snorts. “Little shit,” he says. “Maybe I’ll make you cum two more times ‘fore I slip it to ya, how’s about that?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Steve answers, horrified. 

“Maybe I would,” Bucky answers in a chuckle. “That just sound awful to ya, honey? Not getting dick in you right away?”

“I’ll flip us and take it myself,” Steve threatens.

Bucky smirks. “No,” he says, “I don’t think you will.”

He runs a finger teasingly down Steve’s balls and taint. Steve sucks in a breath, shuddering immediately. Bucky chuckles again and presses a finger against Steve’s rim. Steve groans and pulls his legs further back again, clenching his fingers behind his knees to prevent himself from getting impatient and grabbing his dick.

“I think I can get you a limp, sobbin’ mess,” Bucky croons. “And _then,_ once you are a puddle’a beggin’ for me, _then_ I’ll put my dick in you.”

“Fuck you, Barnes,” Steve mutters.

“Another time,” Bucky chuckles.

Bucky’s finger pushes past Steve’s rim, just barely probing him. Steve groans again, his cock jumping between his legs. Bucky’s left hand slides up his waist to his chest, then cups one of his pecs and his forefinger and thumb pinch his nipple.

“You’re so pretty, sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs. “So fuckin’ handsome. Think I could get used t’a seein’ this in my bed every night.”  
  


Steve blushes, glancing down to meet Bucky’s gaze. “I snore,” he warns.

“Oh, I know,” Bucky laughs. “I remember, babydoll, don’t you worry ‘bout that.”  
  


“I hog the blankets,” Steve adds.

“I get hot easy,” Bucky promises with a grin. 

Steve smiles, feeling impossibly in love. He lets go of his knee and grabs at Bucky’s shoulder, then the back of his neck as Bucky leans down, and pulls him into another kiss. Bucky grins against his mouth and he pinches Steve’s nipple a little harder.

“I’m clingy,” Steve adds into Bucky’s mouth. “Can’t get out of bed if I’m still asleep. I’ll stick to you.”

“Can’t imagine why I’d want to,” Bucky murmurs.

Steve lets out a soft whine. He cups Bucky’s face with both hands, holding him close. The kiss broke, but Steve held on, and Bucky stayed close, keeping their foreheads pressed together.

“I talk in my sleep,” Steve whispers.

“Sugar, you tryna convince me t’a make you sleep in the other room?” Bucky asks with a fondly exasperated smile.

Steve bites his lip and shrugs. Bucky chuckles and shakes his head, that fond, disbelieving smile still curling his lips.

“You insecure little martyr,” he says. “I wouldn’t give a shit if you were a bed-wetter, Stevie, I wanna wake up to you in my bed every day.”

Steve just pulls Bucky into another kiss. Bucky lets him have that moment, lets him kiss hungrily and needily, lets him have that second to accept his insecurity. Steve really loves Bucky. So much.

“Can I have the cock ring?” Steve murmurs into Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky grins at once. “Fuck yeah, you can,” he says.

Steve lets his legs fall to the side and tucks his arms under his head as Bucky grabs the cock ring. It’s just a rubber band, really, and Bucky easily stretches it over the head of Steve’s dick and carries it over his balls. Steve bites his lip, heart and cock pounding, and Bucky gently settles the band around the base of his shaft and balls. Steve’s eyes roll back, he groans, shivering bodily at the sudden restriction. His cock continues to throb, maintaining his erection despite the ring.

“Mmm, look at that pretty dick goin’ purple,” Bucky says, sliding his hand around the base of Steve’s shaft. “You wanna come with that thing on?”

“Yeah,” Steve says with a wide grin. “An’ the vibrator. Gimme that, too.”

“Damn, tha’s gonna be pretty,” Bucky says, whistling. “Definitely gonna make you come on my fingers with the wand, honey.”

Steve grins wider and wriggles his hips. “Ain’t gettin’ younger, Daddy.”

Bucky lets out a low sound that’s half a chuckle, half a growl. He squirts more lube into his palm, rubs his fingers into it, and then slides two fingers along Steve’s asscrack and presses at his rim. Steve tips his head back, biting his lip, and focuses on relaxing. Bucky slips a finger into him and pumps it in and out slowly.

“Gimme more, Daddy,” Steve demands.

“Bossy,” Bucky growl-chuckles.

“Mhm,” Steve sighs happily, rolling his hips lazily. “Want it, Daddy, gimme it.”

“Damn,” Bucky murmurs.

He pushes a second finger into Steve. Steve groans, feeling the stretch at last, and locks his hands together to keep himself from grabbing his dick. Bucky groans, too, and Steve hears his belt clinking. Steve opens his eyes and looks down, then licks his lips as he watches Bucky yank his belt open with just his left hand.

“Gonna take your dick out at last, Daddy?” Steve asks, his face flaming.

“Yeah,” Bucky answers, his voice rough. “Look so good, sweetheart.”

“Gonna get a hand on yourself?” Steve adds.

“Fuck yeah,” Bucky growls. “Might not be able to go nine times in one night, babydoll, but I got stamina.”

Steve bites his lip again and grins, then lets his lip slip free of his teeth with a soft _pop!_ Bucky groans again, ripping open the front of his jeans while continuing to pump his fingers in and out of Steve’s hole.

“Gonna come on me, Daddy?” Steve asks breathily. “Come all over my dick and ass?”

“Might do just that,” Bucky replies.

“Get it on my tits?” Steve asks, lifting his arms to cup his chest.

“Fuck, yeah,” Bucky mutters.

Steve drops his gaze from Bucky’s red cheeks to his crotch. Bucky gets his jeans open at last, then shoves them and his boxers down. 

His dick springs up. It’s fucking beautiful. Steve whimpers at the sight. He’s only caught glimpses of Bucky’s dick soft over the years – they did live in close quarters for years, and there’s no such thing as privacy in the army – but _hard._

“Jesus,” Steve whispers, both a prayer and praise.

Bucky’s dick looks thick enough that he might just barely be able to close his fist around it at its widest. It’s long, too, easily seven inches if not eight. Two thick veins go along the top and down the side, twisting around to wrap around the underside of his shaft. His exposed cockhead is dripping already, flushed a dusky pink almost darker than his nipples. 

“You’re gonna destroy me,” Steve says. “Please, hurry the fuck up.”

Bucky laughs. His eyes crinkle at the corners in crow’s feet. 

“Little Stevie Rogers never did nothin’ by halves,” he says, “should’a known you’s a cock slut.”

“I got the badge,” Steve promises. “Buck, I wanna _live_ on that dick. Jesus, hurry up, put it in me.”

“Said I was gonna make you come on my fingers first,” Bucky answers with a grin. 

“Buck!” Steve whines.

“Shh,” Bucky coos. “Oh, Stevie –” he adds, sudden and eyes brightening, “I just remembered –”

Bucky then _pulls his fingers out_ and darts away. Steve’s jaw drops open, jerking up onto his elbows and gawking at Bucky’s jeans slipping down his ass in offense as Bucky walks over to the nightstand.

“You did _not_ just walk away,” Steve accuses.

“I got something!” Bucky insists, yanking open drawers. “I got it but it’s too small for me –”

Bucky makes a noise of triumph. Steve is still highly offended, and since Bucky isn’t doing his duty, shifts and puts a hand between his legs to shove two fingers into himself. Bucky turns around with a _thing_ in his hands; an odd cup with a ring attached to the base.

“God, you couldn’t wait?” Bucky says with a laugh as he notices Steve’s finger inside his own ass.

“Did you feel how tight I am?” Steve retorts. “I’d like to get fucked sometime this week, yannow.”

Bucky waves the cup/ring at him. “You’re gonna like this,” he says, walking back to the end of the bed. “See –”

He grabs the wand vibrator and then fits the cup onto the head. It clicks. Steve looks at the ring now with eagerness.

“Ring’s jus’ a lil’ too tight on me,” Bucky says with a smirk. “But you –”

Bucky presses the power button. The vibrator kicks to life and the ring attached to the head starts shaking in a deliciously enticing manner.

“Oh, god,” Steve whispers.

Bucky licks his lips, smirking still. His dick twitches, hanging above his jeans. His right hand is still lubey, but he swaps the vibrator for the lube bottle and squirts more onto his fingers, then coats the ring with it. Steve pumps his fingers a few more times in his ass as best he can with the awkward angle, then withdraws his fingers and fists himself, spreading a thin coat of lube across his shaft. His cock throbs in his palm despite the ring around his base.

“Gimme it, Daddy,” Steve demands.

Bucky pushes two fingers back into Steve’s ass and gently, ever so gently, slips the vibrating ring over Steve’s dickhead.

“Oh –!” Steve gasps, eyes fluttering shut.

The vibrator kicks pleasure through his body all the way to his toes. Bucky pushes three fingers into him immediately after, sliding the ring up and down Steve’s shaft. Bucky pumps his fingers one more time and Steve is hit by another orgasm. He gasps, arching his back and shoving his hips down onto Bucky’s fingers, as his cock shoots cum far enough to fleck his own face.

“Oh, Jesus,” Bucky hisses. “Fuck, that’s fuckin’ hot, Stevie –”

Steve shivers all over as the vibrator starts causing a little bit of pain along with the pleasure, an edge to the orgasm that makes him start to feel like his limbs are putty. 

Bucky starts to pull the vibrator off him. Steve whines at once, grabbing Bucky’s wrist and holding it still.

“Shit –” Bucky whispers. “Stevie, baby, hold it –”

The handle of the vibrator is pushed into his palm. Steve takes it, though his hand is quite limp. He hears Bucky groan and opens his eyes in time to see Bucky fisting his own cock with his metal hand. The flushed, rosy-brown tip disappears into his fist, leaving a glistening sheen on the black and gold metal. Steve shivers again, hole clenching, and Bucky gasps. He shoves his fingers deeper into Steve’s hole, Steve then also gasps, and Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, mouth falling open. He groans loudly, and then he’s splattering Steve with more cum, this time, across his lower belly, cock, and thighs.

“Fuck,” Steve says roughly.

“You’re a fuckin’ sight,” Bucky says.

Steve grabs at Bucky’s arm desperately. Bucky folds over him and crashes their lips together. Steve tangles his hand in Bucky’s hair, wraps his legs around Bucky’s waist, and rolls his hips into Bucky’s hand. Their dicks press together, Steve’s still trapped in the vibrating ring, and Steve’s squirming with the lube and cum covering his lower body has their dicks rutting together just perfectly. Steve could come like this. He wants to. He wants more.

“Jesus,” Bucky whispers against Steve’s mouth. “Sugar, you’re gonna be the death’a me.”

“Fuck me,” Steve begs breathlessly.

Bucky stuffs a fourth finger into him. Steve whines, pressing against Bucky’s stomach, and tugs on Bucky’s hair. Bucky growls into his mouth, then pulls his fingers free.

“Yes –” Steve gasps.

Bucky wipes cum and lube off Steve’s stomach and uses that to slick up his cock. Steve throws his head back, panting, and strains his thighs to spread them far as Bucky _finally_ presses his dick against his hole.

“Tell me you want it, baby,” Bucky pants.

“I want it,” Steve swears, “want it so bad, Daddy, please, gimme your dick –”

Bucky groans. Steve whines more. Bucky pushes down on Steve’s right thigh with his metal hand, rubs his dickhead around his rim, then pushes into him.

“Oh, fuck!” Steve gasps again. “Fuck, fuck, Daddy, yes –”

“Jesus –” Bucky grits out. “Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ tight –”

“‘M tight, Daddy, tight for you,” Steve babbles on. “Fuck me, Daddy, stuff me full, make me limp t’morrow, want it hard –”

“ _Jesus,_ ” Bucky gasps again.

Bucky’s hips slam against Steve’s ass. Steve groans, grabbing the vibrator and twisting it up his shaft. Bucky rests his elbows by Steve’s waist and his mouth closes over one of his nipples. He sucks, then bites, and Steve shouts; his wrist jerks and the ring presses up under the head of his dick and he comes a third time.

It feels like an explosion. Steve jerks his hips up, slamming into Bucky, and a shout gets caught in his throat as he forgets how to breathe. Bucky swears loudly and then he’s grabbing Steve’s hips with both hands and pistoning his hips against Steve’s ass. His cock scrapes Steve’s prostate and Steve’s eyes roll back as he sees stars. His mouth is stretched open, he’s panting and whimpering, and he twists the vibrator on his dick with a shaking hand.

“Don’t hold back, honey,” Bucky says, panting. “Scream for Daddy –”

“Oh, _fuck!_ ” Steve shouts hoarsely.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Bucky answers, digging his hands into Steve’s hips. “Good boy, Stevie, you’re such a fuckin’ sight, so fuckin’ pretty, so _tight –_ ”

“Come in me, Daddy,” Steve begs, wrapping his legs around Bucky’s hips and digging his heels in. “Want it, want it so bad, come in me, fill me up, wanna drip you all night –”

“Fuck, yeah,” Bucky says, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Gonna beg Daddy to bust a fat nut in this hole, baby? Gonna whine an’ cry for it? You a lil’ cum whore, Stevie?”

“Yeah, I’m a cum whore!” Steve whines obediently. “Fill me up, Daddy, please, please, wanna come with you –”

“Gonna come from Daddy’s cock goin’ off in ya?” Bucky counters. “Fuck, baby, that’s fuckin’ hot –”

“Gimme, Daddy,” Steve begs.

Bucky shifts his right hand and grabs Steve’s chest. He pinches Steve’s nipple, twisting it, and his tongue slips from his mouth to sweep across his lips. Steve comes again, breath catching once more in his throat. This one hurts, he just dribbles spunk onto his belly, but it’s mind-numbingly good. 

“Oh, _good boy,_ ” Bucky purrs.

Bucky grabs his hips again and thrusts a few more times, reckless and chasing completion with wild abandon. Steve whines, tipping his hips up as his cock throbs painfully in the ring and vibrator. Bucky then groans and slams his hips home once more, Steve hears his balls smack against his ass, and then Steve feels his dick spurting in him. Steve whimpers one more time and the ghost of an orgasm causes his cock to pulse one more time.

“Fuck,” Bucky mutters, rolling his hips slowly one more time.

“Uh-huh,” Steve whispers.

Bucky takes the vibrator from Steve’s limp hand, lifts it off Steve's dick – Steve hisses from the stab of overstimulation –, and tosses it aside. Then he pushes Steve’s legs to the bed and holds them apart, gaze fixed between his legs, and pulls out slowly. Steve shivers as Bucky’s cock slips out of him, both from the cold from the loss of Bucky’s body against his and the dribble of hot cum falling from his hole.

“Jesus, that’s pretty,” Bucky mutters, licking his lips.

Steve groans and bats his hands weakly at Bucky’s arms. Bucky folds over him and presses a long, slow kiss to his mouth.

“You got lube in my hair, honey,” Bucky murmurs.

“Oops,” Steve says with a lazy grin.

Bucky scoops Steve up from the bed. Steve wraps his legs around Bucky’s waist and braces himself on his shoulders, his core muscles deliciously sore as he engages them to hold on. Bucky kisses him again, then walks off with him to the attached bathroom still kissing.

“Can I wake you up with a blowjob in the morning?” Steve asks against Bucky’s mouth.

“Fuck, yeah, baby,” Bucky promises. “Greedy boy, ain’t’cha?”

Steve grins and nods. Bucky pushes aside the shower curtain and climbs into the tub, putting Steve on his feet again inside. Steve still holds onto Bucky; his knees are weak. Bucky shuts the curtain, then reaches around Steve to turn on the water.

It comes out warm already. Steve shuffles around and leans against the wall, hands resting on Bucky’s waist. Bucky fixes the water temperature, then adjusts the showerhead to hit their necks.

“Need your hair done?” Bucky asks, touching Steve’s head.

Steve shakes his head, tipping his head back. Bucky leans in and kisses his throat just under his beard, then lets him rest against the wall and moves into the spray of the water to wash the lube out of his hair. Steve watches him through hooded eyes, exhausted and satisfied in all the best ways. 

“I love you,” Steve murmurs. “So much.”

“Ain’t never gonna get tired’a hearin’ that,” Bucky answers with a grin. “Tell me again.”

“I love you,” Steve repeats.

Bucky steps out of the spray of water, hair lathered with shampoo, and pulls him into a kiss. Steve wraps around him, hands pressing into the small of his back.

“Love you, too, punk,” Bucky says against his mouth.

“Tell me again,” Steve begs.

“I love you, too,” Bucky repeats, brushing Steve’s hair back. “Goin’ on a hun’nard years now, gonna love ya a hundred years more.”

“‘Til the end of the line,” Steve says with a grin.

“Jesus, that’s cheesy,” Bucky chuckles. “We used t’a say that? For real?”

Steve grins wider and nods. “Damn, we were fools,” he says. “Goin’ ‘round pledgin’ t’a be there for each other ‘til the end’a the line and not realizing how gone we were for each other.”

“Fools,” Bucky agrees, pecking Steve’s lips.

“Buck,” Steve says, impulsive and longing. “Go with me to the courthouse tomorrow?”

“What for?” Bucky replies, but he’s smiling like he knows.

Steve picks up Bucky’s left hand and presses a kiss to his ring finger. “Marry me,” he asks.

“Sure thing, punk,” Bucky chuckles.

Steve pulls him into another kiss, pushing his hand into Bucky’s soaped-up hair without giving a shit. He loves Bucky so much.

*

Steve pats a heifer on the rump as he sends her into the barn with the others. The herd is lowing softly to one another, saying their goodnights, he imagines. Sophie and Maya come trotting out of the barn, ears perked in some kind of doggie pride for a job well done. Maya nudges her nose against his leg, then sits down and looks up at him expectantly. 

“Do I look like I got somethin’ for ya?” Steve asks, spreading his hands to show they’re empty.

His wedding ring catches the light and Maya’s attention, the sparkle breaking her focus for just a moment, then she whines and barks for his attention. Sophie sits down in front of him.

“Youse are lil’ extorters,” Steve says, reaching into his pocket for some treats. “You’re gonna get fat.”

Sophie and Maya thump their tails against the ground excitedly. Steve passes them each a treat and they lick it out of his hands happily. Steve wipes his hands on his jeans and as soon as they finish chewing, the dogs run out of the barn.

“Brats,” Steve chuckles, turning around.

“They take after their master,” Bucky teases, stepping into the barn.

Steve grins. He steps back and leans against the wall, just smiling at his husband. Bucky walks up to him and presses his metal hand against the wall by Steve’s head. Steve tips his head back and grins at Bucky.

“Howdy, partner,” Bucky murmurs.

“Howdy,” Steve answers with a giggle.

“Wha’d’ya say,” Bucky adds, putting both hands on the wall and now caging Steve in, “we go for a ride, cowboy?”

Steve laughs. He puts his hands on Bucky’s waist and pulls him in for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> _this has been moonythejedi394, yeeting yeehaws onto the internet since 2020. make sure you go check out middi's art, like and retweet and comment! it's really amazing and i loved writing for it._
> 
> _make sure you follow[middi](https://linktr.ee/MiddiMidori) for more art; check out their links to the things ao3's terms and conditions do not permit me to mention! you can also follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/moonythejedi) or on [tumblr](http://moonythejedi394.tumblr.com/) and find links to my things that i can't mention on ao3. i'll see you again soon ;) stay tuned_


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